


Something Old, Something New

by amclove



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: M/M, Tyrus - Freeform, so they're like...17 in this, this was purely for myself lol bc i love my boys, tj kippen is smitten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 08:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15433005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amclove/pseuds/amclove
Summary: There came a point when Cyrus was sure he’d never get over Jonah Beck. But then there’d been that day on the swings.





	Something Old, Something New

“Maybe the thing to do after you roll the dice—and lose—is simply pick them up and roll them again.”

― Emily Giffin, _Something Borrowed_

 

     There came a point when Cyrus was sure he’d never get over Jonah Beck, the boy with hazel-green eyes that seemed to shine only for whoever he happened to deign with a glance and dimples for days, dimples that looked to be—respectively—ten feet deep. It was exhausting crushing on a straight guy from age 12 to 17, but what was worse was that Jonah wasn’t. Straight, that is. That had been made clear when, at age 15, in the gang’s freshman year, a boy from California with stupidly blond hair and a tan had Jonah drooling embarrassingly (and not figuratively) on his algebra homework. His bisexuality had slammed into the ever-smitten Cyrus like a truck because it meant that he’d always had a ‘chance’ with Jonah but now—with Jonah’s heart-eyes always aimed at his boyfriend _Christian_ , ugh—he wouldn’t have the opportunity to take that chance regardless.

     But then there’d been that day on the swings. Not the first one, but another of many that had been a catalyst in changing Cyrus’ outlook for good. Brooding as usual, he had settled his teenage behind into his swing at the park and tried to figure out how best to actually move on and far away from Jonah. He loved him, genuinely—as a dear friend. The crush was an underlying, incredibly annoying part of that, though, and Cyrus wanted desperately to let it go without having to simultaneously let go of the friendship. Buffy’s girlfriend, Claudia, liked to tease that he was as problematic a gay as they come, which in this case Cyrus found hard to disagree with.

     It wasn’t like he enjoyed this feeling of being so stuck in his 12-year-old body, but that’s exactly what that crush did to him. Made him feel like that kid who’d only just realized that he was gay, let alone that the boy he liked would never see him in that way. And that was the problem, wasn’t it, that he constantly projected himself back to what had arguably been the worst time of his life, in more ways than one. What with the voice changes, the height fluctuation, the awkward… situations around Jonah or while watching moves with his parents, of all people, Jesus. (Steve Rogers really messed with him in that department, oh boy.)

     He knew he needed to drop the past and move forward toward a brighter, gayer future. That was obvious. But until this particular Saturday at the park, Cyrus was lost as to how he could do so.

     “What’s good, Triple-C?” TJ asked, his trademark smirk set in place as he approached the swing-set.

     “You seriously need to erase that nickname from our history,” Cyrus told him. “It’s horrific.”

     TJ gave a little shrug. “So’s the rate at which you shove chocolate chip muffins down your throat; I don’t judge you for that, do I?”

     “Asshole,” Cyrus muttered, but he was too distracted to put any real malice into the word.

     “Why’re we swinging today?” TJ asked.

     “Oh, you know. This and that.” Cyrus looked his way. “Why’re you here? You sense my distress?”

     “As usual,” TJ replied.

     “What a prince.” Cyrus sighed and pushed onto the wood-chips beneath his feet to stand. “I’ve been here a while; I’m sure my four parents are having a joint conniption as we speak. I’d better get home.”

     “And just when I arrive? Bitch.”

     “It’s been said.”

     “Hey, Cyrus,” TJ said. Cyrus looked at him. “What’s wrong?” The only response was a shrug of slim shoulders, and TJ raised his eyebrows. “Don’t be a jerk.”

     “Says you, not-so-scary-basketball-guy.” TJ jutted his chin toward the swing for Cyrus to take a seat, to stay. He did. “It’s just stuff I’ve been trying to get over.”

     “I know how that goes.” Cyrus realized that in his own way, TJ was right. He’d found out years back about his learning disability, worked at school and home tirelessly, and was doing well. Cyrus couldn’t have been prouder than when TJ’s math marks had been replaced in their nose-dive with a (gradual) sky-rocket. TJ’s entire attitude changed; he smiled more, and it reached his eyes so brilliantly that Cyrus came to see that Jonah may have had dimples, but TJ had the most heart-melting smile around and couldn’t be beat in that department. “Can I help?”

     “I don’t think so,” Cyrus said, “but I’ll keep you updated.”

     “You do that.” TJ went quiet, then said, “Any plans for this weekend?”

     “Nope. Probably working on the ol’ blog. Maybe I’ll try another recipe. You know, that one batch of chicken French wasn’t so bad.”

     “The breading was like boiled skin, Cy.”

     “Okay, Florian Bellanger, I’ll just quit cooking altogether.”

     “No, no, if you want to try cooking again, I will be there to play test subject to whatever the hell it is you decide to make. That’s a promise.”

     Cyrus barked a laugh and conceded a grin at TJ’s teasing, but TJ almost didn’t seem to be kidding. “You’re the worst. Test subject, my ass.”

     “We could even hang tonight, if you want,” suggested TJ. “I’m free. Maybe get your mind off whatever’s bugging you out.”

     “That’s quite an offer, but I…” Cyrus paused. Why was he saying no? TJ was one of his closest friends, why not spend a night out of his house and at TJ’s? Better than staying cooped up at home watching _Chopped_ re-runs. “Actually, I’d love that.”

     TJ grinned. “Bring snacks.”

* * *

 

     Cyrus forced himself not to pack too much for the night. It wasn’t like he was sleeping at TJ’s house, anyway. He’d been known, years ago, to pack at least two bags for actual sleepovers at Buffy’s or Andi’s simply because he could never guess what he may need. Now, for tonight, he did his very best to bring essentials: a toothbrush and paste (just in case they ate something he would need to wash away), and an extra pair of socks (just in case he stepped in something he needed to be rid of immediately). He stood outside TJ’s door, honestly excited to spend a night with Jonah out of his head. He couldn’t wait for the day when the idea of liking him would be nothing more than a distant, tragic memory.

     “Muffin!” TJ announced upon opening the door. Cyrus’ grin collapsed into a grimace. “What? You said no more Triple-C.”

     “And my regrets continue to pile onto my weary back,” Cyrus rejoined. TJ rolled his eyes at the histrionics, ushering him inside, and ordered Cyrus to dump his bag beside the couch.

    “My parents are at some cocktail party tonight, won’t be home for a couple hours. We can watch anything we want.”

     “ _Pride and Prejudice_?”

     “While everyone knows _The Princess Diaries_ 1 and 2 are superior to that movie in every way,” TJ said, making Cyrus laugh, “I appreciate the suggestion. But that isn’t in my selection. I have basically every Marvel or DC film ever made, a couple rom-coms that my mom is obsessed with but only on Valentine’s Day, and some slasher movies.”

     CJ checked out the shelf stuffed full of CD cases and inspected the options. “What’s _Something Borrowed_?” Cyrus recognized the actress on the front as being a character from that one show Andi was head over heels for way back when, the one with Rumpelstiltskin and an evil queen, but he couldn’t name her.

     “It’s not bad. Is that what you wanna watch?”

     “I guess. We have all night for other stuff anyway,” Cyrus reasoned. TJ agreed and within ten minutes, the two were comfortable on the couch, a popcorn bowl set on the table before them. As tradition went, Cyrus had brought assorted chocolate candies to melt into the popcorn. Messy, but oh so worth it.

     “Kate Hudson is pretty bitchy in this,” Cyrus observed.

     TJ shook his head at his friend. “I thought it was gay rule number one to be versed in all things romantic comedy. I can’t believe you haven’t seen this.”

     “Well, that’s where you went wrong: I’m not really gay,” Cyrus informed TJ, acting serious. “Can’t believe you’re still falling for that, all this time.”

     “You’re so dumb.”

     “Good one.”

     “Just watch the movie, would you?”

     Cyrus snickered and tried to focus. Kate’s character reminded him in the slightest of the way Amber used to be, like the world owed her a special debt just for her existing and it left her unable to see past her own conceited self. And they were both blonde, so there was that. And the Rachel girl, pining over a guy she’d so royally screwed up her shot with and acting like a martyr in letting her supposed best friend have him. Cyrus was honestly shocked at the movie’s ending, and said as much to TJ.

     “It’s just a movie, dude.”

     “It was ridiculous. I know rom-coms aren’t known for their overly realistic portrayals of modern love but come on. Her friend—a super cute John Krasinski, I might add—was in love with her the whole time, for who knows why, and instead she goes after a guy that she should’ve dropped years before? He was engaged to her best friend! Who was a bitch, yeah, but let’s be honest; Rachel’s the one that chose to end their friendship over a guy.”

     TJ shrugged. “Darcy was the bitch, like you said. She was a shitty friend, wasn’t worth Rachel’s time. It was either choose Dex and be happy, or stay friends with Darcy while totally aware of everything that went down between them. On top of everything else? Living with that dysfunction is unrealistic, not Rachel ending up with Dex, the guy that made her happy.”

     “But the friend—Ethan! Oh my God, Jim Halpert is my weakness! And he liked her so much!”

     “Okay, so you’re saying if a nice guy is friends with a girl,” TJ said, “he should automatically get to date her, just cuz he’s decent?”

     “When you say it like that, I sound like an asshole.”

     TJ leaned back against the couch cushion, stretching. “Hey, your words, buddy.”

     Cyrus rolled his eyes to look at the ceiling and stood up to pace. “Oh, whatever. I don’t even know how to feel about that movie; I’m confused.”

     “Chill out, this was supposed to be a relaxing night.”

     “Do I seem relaxed to you?” Cyrus demanded. “Why did she end up with the man she’d always fantasized about? That doesn’t happen in real life. That happens once every thousand years. Everyone else just moves on, end of story. _That’s_ real. And sometimes it’s for the best.”

     TJ’s eyebrows came together as he watched Cyrus in his sudden rant. “Is there something you need to talk about?” Cyrus shook his head and TJ stood up to face him fully. He took him by the shoulders so that Cyrus had nowhere else to look aside from TJ’s face. Though they were both taller than they’d been in middle school, TJ was and always would be a half-foot above Cyrus. Unfortunately. “Don’t pretend like there’s nothing wrong,” he said. “I saw it at the swings and I see it now.”

     “There’s just some stuff—”

     “Yeah, I know.” TJ’s eyes swept over Cyrus’ features. “We’ve all got our stuff, Cyrus. How many times did you rail me for shutting you out when I had mine?”

     “It isn’t the same,” Cyrus said, pulling away. “Yours was fixable, this isn’t.”

     “It wasn’t ‘fixable,’ Cyrus. Dyscalculia isn’t something I can take a pill for and medicate away, or drink enough water to cleanse from my system. I work every day to be where I am, even just saying it out loud took so much time.”

     “I know,” Cyrus said, voice small. “I didn’t mean…”

     “I know,” TJ said. He sighed a little. He lifted a hand like he wanted to touch Cyrus’ arm, but dropped it before he made contact. When Cyrus sat down again on the couch, he did the same.

     “Sometimes I think the best friend is a douche bag, you know,” he told Cyrus.

     “Huh?”

     “He doesn’t deserve to be with the girl every time. Sometimes he’s just a dick, and thinks he’s entitled to her because he’s good at hiding it.”

     “Ethan wasn’t like that,” Cyrus pointed out. “He wanted whatever he could get, whether it was friendship or something more. It would’ve always been enough.”

     TJ nodded, inside his own head. He sat back, adjusting in place, and his knee ended up bumped to Cyrus’. Cyrus felt keenly aware of the slight touch, and in that moment noticed that TJ hadn’t done anything like that in a long time, touched him accidentally or even purposely. He used to throw an arm over his shoulders as they walked, or give a clap to Cyrus’ back, and after a while without the intermittent contact, Cyrus realized that he’d come to miss it without even consciously thinking about the loss.

     For the first time in a while, he settled his head against the top of TJ’s shoulder. Since the day they’d met, TJ had always smelled exactly the same. It pervaded his entire bedroom, but never the rest of the house, and Cyrus couldn’t understand how it was possible. It was uniquely, pleasantly TJ, and it was almost like having a eucalyptus lotion meant to sooth nerves that he’d gotten somehow for free.

     “We should do this more,” he said, yawning.

     “Sit on my couch?”

     “Hang out.”

     “That can be arranged. I don’t have an overwhelming gaggle of friends to entertain, you know.”

     Cyrus squinted at TJ with a frown. “How many times do I have to tell you not to put yourself down?”

     “How many times have you heard the same?”

     Cyrus pursed his lips. “Irrelevant.”

     “Hm,” TJ said, unconvinced. “Okay.”

     “Well, we’ll both stop then.”

     “Deal.”

     “You still smell so nice,” Cyrus murmured.

     “‘Still’?” TJ asked.

     “You always have.”

     “Weirdo,” TJ said, but he didn’t mean it. His fingers played at the fabric of Cyrus’ shirt. He went quiet, and then, “Underdog.”

     “Yeah?” Cyrus responded. The nickname had returned to his mind with no effort, and he laughed a little. “You haven’t called me that in, like, two years.”

     “An oldie but a goldie.”

     “Better than ‘muffin,’ by far.”

     “Oh, for sure. But I’m still going to call you muffin.”

     “Jerk.” Cyrus tried to ignore the feel of TJ’s fingers on the hem of his T-shirt. It was throwing him off, but he didn’t want to make that obvious. Like he was some touch-starved idiot that lost it at the slightest brush of another human’s hand. And maybe that was true but again, he didn’t need to make that obvious.

     But maybe it wasn’t just because TJ was another warm-blooded human person. TJ and his blue eyes, his tallness, his comforting smell, the rom-coms. The stupidly endearing nicknames, the learning disability that he’d worked diligently to overcome day after day, the way he’d spot Cyrus in the stands at a basketball game and grin so widely. His soft, perfect hoodies that were finally starting to fit a bit better over Cyrus’ ever-lean frame.

     He looked up through his lashes at TJ, and wondered for the briefest second, what if?

     In all his years knowing TJ, he never once had shown an interest in a girl. He got along just fine with Andi, and Buffy now too, but neither of them were sexual options. What if?

     Maybe missing his chance with Jonah had been more like dodging a bullet. Maybe this, right here, warm beside TJ, was something Cyrus could actually have. A something more than idolatry in the form of a childhood infatuation that only ever amounted to crushed hopes.

     “Have I ever told you I’m gay?”

     Cyrus jumped off TJ’s shoulder with wide eyes.

     “You’re what now?” he demanded.

     “I guess that’s a no.”

     “No, I just—” Cyrus felt shell-shocked. Had TJ just read his mind, heard his thoughts? “Why haven’t you ever said something?”

     “Never thought it mattered much,” TJ admitted. “Besides, all being out’s done for you is a hideously ingrown crush on Jonah Beck. Didn’t seem like much fun.”

     “Okay, harsh. Also, how’d you know that I had a crush on Jonah?”

     “You aren’t subtle. You may be the least subtle person around.”

     “That’s fair,” Cyrus had to admit. _I had a crush on Jonah._ Had he just used the past tense? “Well. Thanks for telling me, I guess. Not that it changes anything.” Except everything.

     “Guess not.”

     Cyrus settled back down beside TJ, disappointed for reasons that he couldn’t name.

    Was he going to miss another chance? Seriously? If he’d learned anything from the incredibly confusing rom-com they’d just watched, getting the guy sometimes was possible. Why shove away an opportunity to be happy when he sat right there on the same couch?

     He hastily leaned over, before he could convince himself to stop, and pressed a kiss to TJ’s cheek. “Thanks for telling me,” he repeated, but the sentiment was far more genuine than it had been when he’d said it last.

     TJ looked at Cyrus in surprise. “You’re welcome,” he said uncertainly. A beat of silence. “Another movie? Maybe see what’s on TV?” Cyrus could only nod as TJ searched the guide for anything good. A re-run of a _Friends_ episode had begun not long before, and so that’s what they chose. TJ slung his left arm over the cushion above Cyrus’ shoulders. Experimentally, tentatively, it lowered until it was touching Cyrus instead of the couch. Cyrus didn’t want to breathe for fear that TJ would be startled like a deer and pull away. Regardless, he settled his side against TJ’s and tried to be calm as he felt the heat from TJ’s body melt into his own.

     “Cyrus,” TJ said slowly.

     “Mhm?” Cyrus said. He really hoped TJ couldn’t hear his heartbeat at this second; it was embarrassing as hell, totally giving away his unnecessary nerves. Whatever TJ had been about to say, it was interrupted by the opening of the front door behind them. Cyrus and TJ jerked apart as the latter’s mother called in, “Hey, boys! How was your night?”

     “Fine, Mom,” TJ said, too quick to be natural. Mrs. Kippen didn’t notice, though, and only dropped a kiss onto his head before replying that she and his father were going to bed, not to be up too late, don’t make too much noise, etc. Cyrus wondered what time exactly he should head home. He was going to have to go soon since he couldn’t drive past midnight, but he didn’t want to leave.

     “It’s past eleven,” Cyrus said, once the Kippens were upstairs. “I should probably get going…”

     “Right, yeah,” TJ said. “Can’t believe you didn’t even bring any real snacks, dude.”

     “All I ate of yours was the popcorn, get off my back,” Cyrus joked, pulling his bag onto his arm. “Next time, I’ll be sure to bring appetizers and an entrée on top of the candy.”

     “If it’s your cooking, I can’t be sure I want it in my house.”

     TJ leaned against the doorframe, Cyrus on the porch in front of him with his jaw dropped. “Dick!”

     “Not really in the mood, no.” Cyrus flushed and looked at his feet, TJ did the same when he realized what he’d implied. “Cyrus.”

     “I’ll see you Monday, TJ,” he interjected, not rudely.

     TJ watched him with soft eyes. “Sure, Underdog. See you.”

     Before he could talk himself out of it, Cyrus moved forward and settled himself against TJ’s chest, arms secured around his waist. He felt TJ’s arms wrap around him in return, and couldn’t believe how badly he wanted to never move from this spot where he fit so perfectly. “Not-so-scary-basketball-guy,” he murmured. After a few seconds had gone by, he pulled away from TJ.

     This time it was TJ that pressed his lips to Cyrus’ cheek, the word “Monday” whispered there like a promise.

     “How about tomorrow?” Cyrus amended. TJ laughed, his head ducking into the crook of Cyrus’ neck for the briefest moment. His face was redder than Cyrus had ever seen it.

     “Tomorrow, definitely. Much better,” he agreed.

     Cyrus forced himself to step back, pick up the bag he’d dropped onto the concrete, and make for his car. It was a miracle that he was still standing. “Tomorrow,” he called back to TJ. “I’ll text you.”

     “You better.”

     It wasn’t a question anymore: Cyrus was most definitely getting over Jonah.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own anything to do with 'Andi Mack' or the movie/book 'Something Borrowed' except my own ideas and writing. Come say hi to me on tumblr at cyanicas.tumblr.com! Thank you for reading! <333


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